Frontier Town, the saga of the roaring west.
Frontier Town.
El Paso, Cheyenne, Calgary, Tombstone.
Frontier Town.
Here is the adventurous story of the early west, the tamed and the untamed.
From the Pecos to Powder River, Dodge City to Poker Flat.
These are the towns they fought to live in and lived to fight for.
Teeming crucibles of pioneer freedom.
Frontier Town.
Frontier Town.
Howdy.
Scrawling boisterously across the rawhide tough frontier is the little town of Dos Rios.
Not much of a town to be sure.
A few stores, a church, the start of what someday will be a school.
Nine saloons and one so-called lawyer.
The lawyer's name is Chad Remington.
That's me.
Of course there's not enough law business in the whole county to keep me busy,
but I do own a ranch left to me by my dad when he died.
Naturally there wouldn't be a lawyer in Dos Rios if we didn't have a court.
And with the court it goes without saying we have a judge.
Judge Fillmore, whose daughter Libby happens to be a most special favorite of mine.
Well with the lack of law business one day not so long ago,
the judge and I decided to see what we could do about getting ourselves some wild turkeys.
Oh he saddled up a couple of my horses, took two of my best rifles and started scouting.
Nice shooting Chad. You got yourself two gobblers.
You call that nice shooting, judge?
Shot four times and only got two birds.
And that's what a fella gets for spending too much time practicing law
and not enough time practicing with a Winchester.
Two out of four.
Well if you can keep as good an average hitting the bullseye for your clients,
they should have no complaints.
Clients? I haven't seen one in a month.
You don't mind my representing you Chad.
Never admit to a man who might be your future father-in-law
that you can't keep his daughter in the style to which she hopes to become accustomed.
That's good advice judge.
And I'll be happy to pay your fee if my future father-in-law gives his consent someday.
I better be picking up those two toms before the buzzards get to...
Who's this coming?
I see someone coming all right, but without my glasses...
It's no wonder you only bag one turkey.
That's Tim Brackett.
You know, the young puncher who works over at the JLACL.
Hey Tim!
Howdy Chad, judge.
Well, howdy.
Riding all over with Patty's half acre looking for you.
Cherokee told me you're probably out here on a turkey hunt.
You're looking for us?
Well, I guess either one of you alone would have been all right.
Got a legal question I'd like answered.
Well, see judge, business is picking up.
What's on your mind son?
Well, it's just...
Just something I...
Well, I made a bet with a fella.
No one can legally force you to pay a bet, Tim.
No, that isn't what I mean, judge.
Let's suppose a fella...
Some fella, borrowed ten thousand dollars on his ranch.
Uh-huh, some fella.
Yeah, yeah, some fella.
Well, suppose this fella paid all of it but two thousand dollars...
And then couldn't pay the two thousand right off.
Could the man with the mortgage take the ranch away from him?
It might sound inequitable, but legally, until every last cent is paid,
interest in all, the lender can foreclose and take possession of the property.
That's a fine thing.
Lose your bet?
Yeah, sure did lose my bet.
Well, if you didn't bet your month's wages, there's no reason to commit suicide on that.
Look, I just hate myself for doing this, but could one of you lend me a little money?
Well, I don't know.
How much money is a little money, Tim?
Oh, twenty, twenty-five dollars.
As long as you're going to have to owe somebody, why not owe the man you lost the bet to?
Well, it's not for him.
It's for my sister.
For your sister, huh?
I never heard you talk about a sister before.
Matter of fact, neither did I.
You mean you ain't gonna let me have it?
Not at all. If you give me a word that what you need the money for is strictly legitimate,
I guess I can scrape it up.
Chad, word of honor, I need twenty-five dollars to help out my sister.
That's good enough for me, Tim.
Here you are. Don't go losing it riding back to town.
You bet. See, I'll wrap it up and put it right here in this buckskin pouch in my pocket.
Good, and don't forget there's no particular hurry about paying it back.
Hey, uh, I'm sure not much at speech making, but thanks, Chad.
Thanks from the bottom of my heart.
Get up there, boy. Let's go.
Here you are.
Chad, do you think you should have given that boy the money
without finding out exactly what he needed it for?
Well, he said he needed it for his sister, and that certainly was good enough for...
Hey, wait a minute. He must have dropped something when he pulled out that pouch.
You see it there?
What is it, Chad? What is that piece of paper?
This piece of paper is a letter from the return address on the envelope.
The boy has got a sister. Lives over in the next county in Dry Wells.
Well, I'll be darned.
I didn't believe that story about his sister being in trouble, but apparently it's true.
You think maybe under the circumstances that we ought to open that letter
and see what the trouble is?
If the girl's in real trouble, certainly $25 isn't going to cure it.
All right, Judge, what do you say we read the letter and find out?
Certainly. If she needs more money, maybe we can do something to be of real help.
Here goes.
Find a lot of good that $25 can do his sister.
And it was his sister he was talking about, Chad?
Yep. When her father was alive, he borrowed $10,000 on their ranch.
It's paid down to $2,000 now, and she can't meet that.
Judge, I've got a notion we'd better hightail it over to the J Lazy L and find Tim.
The rest of this story may be interesting, very interesting.
Nobody at the J Lazy L knew where Tim was. He'd taken the day off.
So the judge and I headed back toward town.
When we got to Dos Rios, the judge went home.
I went up to the offices I keep, located over at Cherokee O'Bannon's livery stable.
Cherokee, not only my landlord and sidekick, but also a former medicine man,
was gnashing his teeth over my letting $25 slip through my fingers so easily.
Of all the impoverished, impugnious imbecility, you take the cake, Chad.
Well, I've got a sweet tooth. I like cake.
Well, if you would direct your ill-amont-a-sary instincts in the proper direction,
one-fifth of that amount would have set them up for everybody down at my favorite hostel raid,
the Lady Luck Bar and Grill.
Instead of ranting that way, Cherokee, and worrying about your constantly unquenched thirst,
you might give some thought to where we could find Tim.
First, you give him legal advice. Then, instead of charging him for it, you...
What did you stop for, Cherokee? What are you staring at out the window?
Unless this is an optical illusion.
The most ravishing and pulchritutious bit of femininity is about to come up the stairs to visit you, you bucolic blackstone.
Absolutely stunning, Chad.
What an eye.
What a girl.
Come in.
Which one of you gentlemen is Mr. Remington?
Well, I am. Cherokee, get the young lady a chair.
Just what I was about to do. Here, won't you please sit down?
Thanks. Thanks so much.
Mr. Remington, my name is Emily Brackett.
Brackett? Well, like I always say, it's a small world after all.
We were just talking about another Brackett.
A young cowboy over here, Tim Brackett.
Fine, upstanding lad.
Tim's my brother.
Well, it is a small world, isn't it?
They told me out at the jail, Lazy-L, that you'd been out there a while ago looking for Tim.
I thought you might know where I could find him.
At the moment, I don't, Miss Brackett. But while you're here, I have a confession to make.
Yes?
I read a letter you wrote to Tim about, well, about the money owing on your ranch.
Well, he probably showed it to you because he wanted some legal advice.
Well, that wasn't actually the reason.
But now that I think about it, I have an idea your brother's headed for something which might bring a bit of trouble.
Trouble?
Cherokee, you're a man of the world.
Indeed I am, my boy. Pride myself on it.
If you needed $2,000 and didn't know how to raise it, and providing, of course, someone would lend you $25,
what would you do with the money you'd borrowed?
Well, since it wouldn't take $25 to drown my sorrows, I might be inclined to risk it in the game of stud poker
to see if I could run a double eagle up into some of the long green folding type money.
You mean that my brother borrowed $25 to gamble?
I don't mean anything yet, Miss Emily.
But if you'll sit right here, there are only nine places in town where he could gamble.
And Cherokee and I are going out and see if we can find that young man.
Staying in the pot, Tim?
You blame right I am, Duke. Staying in and raising you another $20.
Hey, you must have another king in the hole, huh?
What do you mean by that, Duke?
What do you mean? What do I mean?
Anybody with the card showing that you have and betting the way you are must have a king buried.
I always kind of suspected you could read the backs of the cards, Duke.
Are you insinuating that I'm running a crooked game?
I ain't insinuating I'm saying so. How else could you know I got a king in a hole?
Tim, I've been operating in Dos Rios for six years now.
No one's ever talked to me that way before. So I'm asking you to pick up your money and get out.
Who are you trying to bluff?
I'm not bluffing, Tim. I'm telling you to clear out of the game.
Yeah? Well, if I leave the game, I'm taking the pot with me.
In a square game, I don't want it.
Duke, take your hands off that money.
Tim, don't act loco. You go reaching for your gun and...
Stop running back, man. That loco's getting a drill in the line.
Here, let me through here, will you? Excuse me.
Now, get back here. Come on.
Duke, who plugged him?
I did, Chad.
Why, you lowdown, double-doubting...
Now, just a minute before you both go shooting off your mouths.
Why don't you ask someone who was here what happened?
It was Tim's fault, Chad. He called Duke a cheat and a liar and then went through his guy.
And that's gospel.
I tried to stop him, but when he threw down on me, there was only one thing I could do.
I guess I did it.
Yeah, I guess you did.
All right, some of you men, pick Tim up and take him over to the...
to the undertakers.
Oh, Chad.
Chad.
If only you'd gotten there just a little earlier.
Believe me, Miss Brackett. You've got to try to get hold of yourself.
Unfortunately, all the grief in the world isn't going to bring your brother back.
You just say the word, Miss, and I'll fill that thieving gambler so full of lead
that he'll bust right through the floor and bury himself right there.
You can save yourself all that trouble, Cherokee.
I'll be right back.
After I've had a chance to talk to a few men who were in there
and I find out what actually happened, I may take care of Duke.
I'll give him a chance to take care of me.
Oh, no. You've done all you should already.
Don't go back down there.
I've got to, Miss Emily.
That's got to be finished before we worry about your ranch.
If there's anything I can do, you're not going to lose your place
to a money-grubbing loan shark for 20 cents on the dollar.
We'll return to the exciting second act of our frontier town adventure
in just about one minute.
GUITAR MUSIC
And now Frontier Town.
From all I've noticed, death, sudden and brutal death, is as shocking in a frontier town as
any place else in the country.
But somehow on the frontier, folks seem better able to pull themselves together and go on
with the things that have to be done.
And so it was that Emily Brackett, over her first shock at her brother Tim's killing,
had regained some of her composure and was able to answer a few questions.
Well, that's about all there is to it, Chad.
Everybody around our part of the country had always borrowed from old Sam Tennyson and
never had any trouble.
It wasn't until Mr. Tennyson died that the man who took over all of his loans began to
foreclose in wholesale lots.
When you say, took over all his loans, what do you mean by that?
I mean, well, I don't know exactly, but this Mr. Sturges bought the mortgages from Sam
Tennyson's estate, I guess.
Eh, sounds crooked to me.
Estate?
Did Tennyson have any heirs, sons or daughters?
He had a son, but he died a few weeks later in an accident.
A bridge he was riding over collapsed.
Convenient, wasn't it?
For Sturges, I mean.
What?
How many ranches has his Sturges foreclosed on already?
Oh, goodness, I don't know, but I guess there isn't a part of the valley he doesn't own
some acreage in.
Well, I think we've imposed on you enough, Miss Emily.
Right now we still have a little unfinished business to take care of.
Business with Duke Rafferty.
Leaving the Judge, Libby and Cherokee to take care of Emily Brackett, I started out to see
that Duke Rafferty, the gambler, paid for the wanton killing of Tim Brackett.
So like any lawyer, I began asking questions to get the proof which would support my case.
When I'd asked about half a dozen people who'd been in the so-called cafe, I wasted little
time going over and paying a call on Mr. Rafferty in person.
What do you want to see me about, Remington?
You'll find out, Duke.
You've got to stick your nose in everybody's business, huh?
At the moment, all I'd like to do is see you alone.
Yeah, you lawyers.
Come on.
Let's go into my private office.
Thanks.
Okay.
Now, what do you want?
Duke, I've made it my business to talk to half a dozen men who witnessed Tim's killing.
But it didn't take long to learn that Tim threatened you.
Even though you tried to stop him, it was the kid who cleared his holster first.
Well, you led me worried for a minute.
You know, you've got a reputation and a pair of eyes that throw a cold chill into a man.
Well, you can relax.
They tell me Tim Brackett accused you of using a mock deck.
I think you know better than that, Chad.
Check.
Now, how about doing me a favor?
Name your own game, Chad.
Running a place like this, I imagine you've met a lot of the fly-by-night gents in this
part of the country.
I was wondering if you could give me a line on the character over in Dry Wells in the
next county, a big money man by the name of Sturgis.
K.C. Sturgis?
Oh, K.C.?
I don't know.
All I know is the name Sturgis.
What does K.C. mean?
Well, if it is the same maverick, I know that K.C.'s a nickname.
Stands for Kansas City.
That's where he came from originally before he started to work the small towns along the
Pecos, the mining camps through Colorado.
Work the mining camps, eh?
What is he, a gambler?
Well, he gambles, but he doesn't make his living at it.
What does he do to make a living?
K.C.?
Does anything and anybody.
All he is, Chad, is a confidence man.
Confidence man, is he?
That's very interesting, Duke.
How in the name of Hannah did you ever get mixed up with a gent like that?
I'm not mixed up with him yet, but now that you've given me this little rundown on him,
I've got a notion it won't be very long before I am mixed up with him.
Plenty.
Great gilded glory, Chad.
What conceivable difference can it make if Sturgis is a confidence man?
It may make the difference between being able to save Miss Emily's ranch or having Sturgis
take it over for the few thousand dollars still owing on it.
Chad, as far as I'm concerned, you haven't answered Cherokee's question.
I guess you're right, Judge.
But if Cherokee is willing to ride over the dry wells with us and indulge in a little
acting, I've got what might be a bright idea.
No, I'm more confused.
Confidence man and acting man?
Well, all right then.
Here it is in a nutshell.
If Mr. K.C. Sturgis is a confidence man and if you introduce Cherokee to him as your wealthy
uncle from the East who's come out to visit you, I think Sturgis will forego your ranch
temporarily and make a play for the larger stakes.
Chad, I'm afraid you'd make a non-successful impresario.
Me a multi-millionaire?
Why, even with my astounding amount of histrionic ability, I'm afraid that's a characterization
at this late date too far beyond my impercunious experience.
Cherokee, with a little expert coaching, we'll have you lighting your cigars with $20 bills.
And I must say, Chad, although your proposal is slightly extra-legal, it sounds as if it
might work on a confidence man.
Well, there's an old saying, judge takes a crook to catch a crook.
Sir, am I to infer that you're branding me a crook?
Oh, not on your life, Cherokee.
I convict no man till he's proven guilty.
Why, until I see you in action in dry wells, I'm not even calling you an actor.
Well, we got to dry wells the next day and moved bag and baggage into the spare room
in Emily Brackett's little ranch house.
Then she sent word to Sturgis that she wanted to see him.
When we saw Sturgis arriving, I suddenly remembered something I hadn't thought of before.
That Sturgis?
Just riding into the gate now, Chad.
Oh, good.
Then in that case, the judge and I had better go into the kitchen while Cherokee demonstrates
his histrionic ability.
Oh, good God.
So one thing we hadn't thought of.
What's that, Chad?
Cherokee's name.
Emily can't introduce him to Sturgis as her uncle Cherokee.
What is your right name, Cherokee?
My, uh, my...
Come on, come on.
Sturgis is almost on the porch now.
Surely your parents gave you a name when you were born.
Yes, they did.
And I still hate my revered painter for it.
My name, my cognomim, my handle is Aloysius.
So you see, Mr. Sturgis, when Uncle Al got my letter asking for the $2,000 I still owe
you, he simply packed up and came right out here.
It was 2,000, but it's more than that now with the interest in default charges.
My, good fellow, what difference can that make?
What difference can a few thousand make one way or another?
No nephew?
I mean, whatever a she-male nephew's called.
Niece, I'm your niece.
Thank you, Emily.
No relative of mine is going to lose a ranch for a few paltry dollars.
When I've got so much, I've got to keep it in three banks.
In three banks?
Three banks and a private bought.
What?
Well, having been in the furniture business all my life, nose to the grindstone and all
that, it's always been my dream to come out west.
Out west for bitter men and gold is where you find it.
I've known people before to come out from the east looking for gold and lose everything
they had, but...
Mr. Sturgist, if you're meaning to discourage me, you're not succeeding.
Because if I can find a suitable piece of gold-bearing land, I am prepared to pay upwards
of $50,000 for it.
Uncle, really, you should.
Now, just a minute, Miss Braggart.
Your uncle's a successful businessman.
I'm sure he knows what he's doing.
And if you're real serious about wanting a piece of gold-bearing property, sir, I know
of one that's got a fortune on it.
And I wouldn't be at all surprised if I couldn't get it for, well, for a little more than the
figure you have in mind.
Buy on figures.
Take me to the property.
And if I like it, I'll give you a draft on my bank.
At least on one of them.
Well, look, I'd better check up on this land first and see if it's still available.
And if it is, I'll show you the most valuable piece of gold-bearing property since the mother
load was discovered.
Well if it doesn't take a crook to catch a crook, it certainly took an actor to bait
the trap to catch the crook that time.
Sturges practically ran for his horse and headed for town with the judge and myself
trailing incautiously.
And there, after a while, we saw him come out of a mining claim office and head out
toward the desert.
About seven miles out of town, with nothing around but rocks, cactus, and Joshua trees,
the judge and I saw Sturges dismount, kneel down, and burrow under some of the rocks.
We didn't wait for him to mount up again, but we circled the location and came back
afterwards.
Late that afternoon, we saw him again approaching the spot in the buckboard, carrying Emily
and Cherokee wood.
Well, Al, my boy, here's the problem.
Here's where we get off.
Well, this is certainly picturesque, Sturges, but there's nothing here but desert.
That's the beauty of it.
That's why you can pick it up for 80 or 90 thousand, why nobody even thinks it's gold
out here.
And just to show you the fortune that's here, suppose you just stoop down and look under
any of these rocks.
You think I should, don't you?
Go on, Al, go on.
It won't bite you.
Well, all right.
Well, there's nothing under this rock but a lot of crawling worms.
Let me see.
Oh, that's funny.
Let's look over here.
There's surely a few nuggets under this rock.
There aren't even crawling worms under that one.
Mr. Sturges, I have a feeling you brought me out here on a fool's errand.
Why, there's no more gold here than a...
Oh, look, Uncle Al, isn't this Chad coming?
Chad?
Who is he?
He's a friend of my brother's over in Dos Rios.
Looking for us, Chad?
Oh, fellas, hold it right there.
They told me it's your place.
You've written out this way, so we trailed you.
I'm glad to say I've got just about enough for you to pay off your loan.
Well, this is really a coincidence.
This is Mr. Sturges, the man who holds the mortgage.
Oh, howdy, Sturges.
I don't suppose you mind if I haven't got it in cash, but if you want to go back to town,
the bank will give you money for these gold nuggets.
Gold nuggets?
Let me see them.
Sure.
Here you are.
Why, you low-down crook.
Where'd you get these nuggets?
What difference can that make?
I told you the bank would take them.
You double-dealing buzzard, you stole them.
Stole them right from here.
Oh, how come you know where I got them?
How do I know?
Because I put them here, but...
Well, you know because you put them here yourself.
You salted this little piece of land and were ready to sell it as a gold mine.
What?
Trying to dupe me by cheap ticanery?
That's nothing but a lie.
You can't prove that.
Oh, no, can we prove that, Judge, or can't we?
In any court in the land, because both of us saw this confidence man ride out here and
plant the nuggets right before our eyes.
You double-crossing...
Don't close both of his eyes, Chad.
He's got to have one good one when he signs that release.
Don't worry, Cherokee.
I'm only gonna dot one eye and one chin.
And now, now, Mr. Sturges, you can either get up yourself or I'll help you up.
Because we're all going back to the Bracket Ranch where you'll sign a receipt for payment
and proof of the balance of that mortgage.
What are you talking about?
You just admitted those nuggets were mine.
They were, but there's a law that says finders keepers.
And another law in anyone's courtroom which says a confidence man can be sentenced to
from 15 to 20 years in jail.
Well, how about it, Sturges?
You coming back with us and signing that release?
All right, all right.
I know when I'm left, give me a chance to get my breath with her.
Listen, you faker, I'm going to give you a better chance than you would have given me.
It so happens that in my hip pocket, I have a bottle of my genuine Cherokee Indian rattlesnake
oil.
One mouthful of that for you and one for me and we'll all be able to ride back...
Now, just a minute, Cherokee.
We've agreed on the punishment for this crime.
And we're not forcing Sturges to drink that alcoholic loco juice of yours unless we catch
him on 10 counts of attempted murder.
Chad, that's the most unfair...
I'm going to go on with my life.
I'm going to go on with my life.
Frontier Town starring Tex Chandler as a Bruce Ells production, supervision by Joel Murcott,
story and direction by Paul Franklin, music written and played by Ivan Ditmar.
Be sure to be with us again same time next week for another fine action adventure story
with your favorite young Western star, Tex Chandler.
And now this is Bill Foreman telling you that Frontier Town came to you from Hollywood.
Thank you.